Keep on Standing Still
by isawet
Summary: During a power outage, Duke and Audrey get to know each other a little better. Set early in the series, Duke/Audrey.


Audrey wakes during the power outage, the lamp she'd left on sparking blue as it blows out, the hum of the generator cutting off abruptly. She jerks up from her desk, wiping at the corners of her mouth. A string of drool comes off on the heel of her palm and she grimaces. She fumbles at the bedside table for the battery powered watch and groans-five in the morning.

Duke thumps against her door. "You up?"

Audrey makes another groaning death-noise, loud enough to carry out of the apartment, and she can hear Duke laugh. "Generator cut out," he says, "there's coffee on, breakfast on the house."

"Pancakes," Audrey calls, her throat hoarse from sleep, and rolls herself out of bed. Her barefeet slap against the wood floor and she hotfoots it to the edge of a rug, shivering. Her clothes are cold against her skin and she thumps down the stairs in unlaced boots, shoving slightly frizzy hair out of her face. She wanders into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Duke says cheerfully. His hair is tied back into that sloppy ponytail, pieces falling out to fan around his face, and Audrey pulls on one, playful. He makes a face at her, flipping a pancake on the flat griddle.

"I think the heat's broken," Audrey says. She slides herself up on a clean countertop and Duke waves the spatula at her.

"Food and safety regulations!"

Audrey ignores him. "Coffee?" Duke hands her a mug, already steaming, and she sips it, scalding her tongue.

"You want bacon?"

"No," Audrey says, and sighs into her coffee. "You're so good to me."

"I like to keep my local law enforcement happy," Duke says, and hands her a plate. "Food's up."

Audrey eats, the pancakes melting on her tongue, and tries not think about Nathan. At her hip, her phone buzzes, and she puts her plate aside. Duke looks up from where he's watching grease rise around a sausage patty.

"Duty calls?"

"Power outages always cause a ruckus," Audrey says absently, leaning over to get into her purse and find her keys. "Even this early and in Haven, I guess."

"Hey wait," Duke says, catching her arm. With his other hand he rips a long sheet off a roll of aluminum foil. "Take it with you, you hardly eat."

"Aw Duke," Audrey says, teasing, and he flushes.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he mutters, and she blows him a kiss as she swings out the door, the towel he throws at her flapping harmlessly against the wall.

/

Audrey responds to two suspicious noise calls on her way to the office, one lonely old lady who offers her cookies on her way out and one raccoon in a garbage can. "It's not even ten," she moans into her desk, and Nathan laughs at her.

"Rough morning?" he says, and her head snaps up. She tries to straighten the papers on her desk, smoothes her hair out of her face.

"Any word on the power?"

"No," he says, sets a paper cup near her elbow. "on the upside, no new calls have come in that the officers can't handle. You could take the rest of the day off."

Audrey looks at him suspiciously. "Tomorrow's my day off."

"Tomorrow would be your day off," Nathan says mildly, flipping through a pile of paperwork, "if you ever took it." He sidles a sideways look at her, the barest flicker of his eyes, and Audrey stiffens.

"I'm fine," she says, defensive. Nathan reaches out with one hand and closes the office door.

"Duke says you haven't been eating."

Audrey gapes at him. "You and Duke talk to each other about me?"

Nathan ignores her. "Dave-"

"You and Duke _and Dave_?"

"Well," Nathan says, "The Chief was busy, so..." Audrey jerks her head up from her papers and sees a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. When she exhales her frustration leaves with her breath and she grins at him, tentative. She opens her mouth and stops as his eyes abruptly refocus over her shoulder. "Take the day," he says, his attention elsewhere. Audrey turns and sees the Chief frowning down at something on his desk. When she looks back Nathan's face is impossibly tight.

Family stuff, Audrey thinks, and takes the day. She doesn't know enough about family to interfere there, even if they'd welcome it.

/

"Hey," Audrey says, slipping into a spot at the bar. "Not opening today?"

"Power's out all over," Duke grunts from beneath the counter. He's stacking the liquor bottles to the side and scrubbing the shelves with a rag and some kind of light amber fluid that smells strongly of lemons. "My guy at the electric company says it won't be restored until late tonight, early tomorrow."

Audrey raises an eyebrow. "Your guy?"

Duke straightens up enough that his head appears over the bar. He grins. "I have guys," he says, "you think I don't have guys? Because I _do_." Audrey swats at his hair and drops her head to the bar.

"Would you judge me for drinking this early?" she asks, her voice muffled against the scarred wood veneer.

"I never judge," Duke says, "I'm a smuggling bartender." She hears the clink of a heavy glass. "We're taught not to judge in criminal school, didn't Nathan tell you?"

Audrey sighs, her breath making a visible fog under her lips. She sits up and drags her finger through it, making little circles. "Don't tell me about criminal school, Duke, I'll feel obligated to do something about it." Her tone is so unenthusiastic Duke puts down the beer glass he was holding and plucks a couple of shot glasses from beside the sink.

"Jose Cuervo or Southern Comfort," he asks, and Audrey mock gasps.

"Bourbon is for _sipping_," she says, faux-horrified. "It's for _savouring_." Duke snags a bottle of tequila by the neck with two fingers and laughs.

"Who taught you about that," he asks, splashing two shots full. Audrey scoops one up and upends it in one continuous motion, swallowing around the burn. She manages not to cough with an effort of will and Duke stares.

"One of the group homes I was in," Audrey says evasively. "Before I went to St. Anne's. It was a couple... Bryan and Jamie, I think." She wrinkles her nose up in thought and takes the second shot, a deep breath, pinching her nose, readying her throat so she doesn't choke. "Bryan liked the bottle."

"Yeah," Duke asks, purposefully mild. He pours another shot. "That must have been rough."

Audrey snorts. "Nice try, Duke. I don't spill that easy."

Duke knocks back the liquor like water. "Can't blame me for trying." Audrey reaches around him and takes a drag straight from the bottle.

"It was a long time ago, anyway. It doesn't mean anything."

"You remember it," Duke says, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. "That's not nothing."

"It's not something," Audrey says, and goes to drink again. Duke takes the bottle from her.

"Easy, Officer Parker. Having a bad morning?"

"Just stupid stuff," Audrey says, and hiccups. She raises a hand. "You may have had a point."

"Water," Duke suggests, the same way someone else might say 'Eureka.' He fills a glass almost up to the top and sets it in front of her. "Drink today, give thanks tomorrow."

"I have a few minutes before it hits me," Audrey says. She does a brief self-audit and reconsiders. "Maybe my tolerance isn't what it used to be."

Duke dumps a large amount of ice into a blender, splashes varying amounts of liquid into the container and slaps the lid on. "Hair of the dog," he declares, and presses down on the different buttons. After three minutes it's evenly blended and Audrey has slid down the barstool and is sitting on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest. Duke's head appears in her line of vision, upside down, and he squints at her.

"Hi," Audrey says, smiling vaguely, and she reaches out to play with his hair. He smiles at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and then disappears. After a minute he comes around again and settles next to her, their backs leaned against the bar. Duke pulls the stools around them like a fort and presses a plastic mug into her palms.

"Tell me more about your misspent youth," he teases, and Audrey snorts.

"You first," she says, and Duke launches into an impassioned story involving Marie Palmer, his third grade girlfriend, and their playground-wedding-turned-telenovela.

"How was I to know the daisychain ring was really made by her backstabbing best frenemy Marcia Collins," he ends dramatically, and Audrey laughs. She's drunk half the smoothie-thing he'd made her, and her mouth tastes like blueberries. She leans her head on Duke's shoulder and closes her eyes.

"I had a playground wedding," she mumbles. "But it was complicated. Political."

"Grade school politics," Duke says. "You're a complicated woman, Audrey Parker."

Audrey slits her eyes open a fraction. "Complicated good?"

"Of course," Duke tells her. "All the great women of history were complicated, didn't the nuns teach you anything?"

"I was too busy marrying Leslie Hopkins under the slide just to prove a point about gender equality," Audrey says loftily. Under her head, Duke's shoulder shakes with stifled laughter, and it jostles her head closer to his neck.

"Leslie Hopkins," Duke says in a fake leer, and Audrey slaps at him lightheartedly.

"Gross Duke, we were like eight." Duke laughs again, and his breath huffs out warm on her skin, smelling like tequila and blueberries, and she sways into him, her lips brushing the underside of his jaw. He goes still under her, and she bites a little, playful mixed with... something else. Intent, maybe, or testing, poking at that current of sexual tension that comes alive between them as soon as they're alone. Duke sucks in a breath, harsh, and Audrey can feel his pulse under her teeth, thundering along faster and faster.

"Audrey," he says, and Audrey catches his words with her tongue, slips them back into his mouth, their noses bumping awkwardly, his hands falling to her waist as she crawls into his lap. He pulls her closer with an arm wrapped around the small of her back and her shirt rides up, letting his fingers skate across the bottom of her spine. Audrey drags her hands up the front of his shirt, playing over the hard planes of his torso, and smiles into their kiss. His belt buckle is digging uncomfortably into her leg and she shifts, impatient. He laughs, and then, fluidly, stands, still holding her. Audrey wobbles, surprised, and wraps her legs around him for balance, her toe sending a stool tumbling to the ground.

"Wow," she drawls, punchdrunk, "you're so strong, I might swoon."

Duke's eyes go serious around the edges "I'll catch you." The moment draws out and then, abruptly, he cops a feel, pinching her just below the belly button, and she laughs out loud, her head thrown back. The laugh goes abruptly low, caught on a moan when he dips his head and drags his teeth over her collarbones.

"Oh," Audrey murmurs, and pulls his lips back up to hers. He props her on the bar, a glass flying off the counter and crashing on the ground. Audrey breaks the kiss to tease him, "You just cleaned..."

Duke rolls his eyes at her and she laughs again, just a little, breathless as she uses her legs to pull him back against her, pressed front to front. His face goes slack, flushing high on his cheeks, and he kisses her again. Audrey pushes back, fighting playfully for control, and one of his hands drags through her hair, catching for splitseconds on tiny tangles. He tugs the elastic off her pontytail and lets it fall-Audrey drags her fingernails across his ribs and he hisses, bites her earlobe in retaliation-and the lights snap on, the generator coming to life with a guttural cough and a roar.

Audrey jerks, surprised, and Duke starts so hard she falls backwards, flailing not at all gracefully. He catches her by the shoulders and steadies her. She blinks at him, takes a deep breath and leans back, just a little, her shoulders pulled in tight. Duke steps back immediately, his hands dropping to his sides. Giving her space, and she smiles at him, genuinely warm. He smiles back, then clears his throat awkwardly.

"Your guy was wrong," Audrey says, her voice coming out husky. She coughs and reaches blindly for the untouched glass of water to her right.

Duke slides awkwardly onto a stool beside her, crossing his arms in his lap. "Audrey, I'm going to _kill_ my guy." The awkwardness snaps like a stretched out rubber band, and Audrey dissolves into giggles, her hands over her mouth. Duke looks to the ceiling. "I'm so glad this is amusing you."

"Sorry," Audrey giggles, sliding off the bar onto her own two feet. "I think I'm drunk."

"Just laugh at my pain," Duke says, hamming it up. "When I die of frustration leave carnations on my grave."

Audrey darts it, quicksilver fast, and brushes a kiss across his cheek. She goes to climb the stairs to her apartment and pauses. "I'm allergic to carnations," she says, hesitant.

Duke smiles at her, soft, affectionate. "Learning new things everyday," he says. "Goodnight, Audrey."

Audrey looks outside, where the sun is still pretty high in the sky, glinting off the water in long lines of glare. She can hear the gulls calling out in the distance, and there's a boat bobbing against a pier just outside the window. She takes a deep breath and lets it out.

"Goodnight, Duke," she says.


End file.
